


sex, drugs, and the pain of touring

by Anonymous



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: (That's ironic I suppose), Comfort No Hurt, Fluff without Plot, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Probably ooc, Sleepiness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, the band are tired and that's it that's the entire plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-02-04 09:10:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Touring is hard, John Reid knows this. He also knows that if he doesn't find his band in the next half an hour he's going to have a serious problem on his hands.





	sex, drugs, and the pain of touring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emma_and_orlando](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_and_orlando/gifts).



> This is just some nonsense fluff based partly on the Fat Bottomed Girls montage from borhap, partly on a cut scene from the "original" script (because I still have no idea if that thing's genuine) and partly on my general desire to read some soft content. Yes I know that technically John Reid wouldn't have gone on tour with them/wouldn't have been a tour manager, and I know Paul wouldn't have been there either, and I know that this would have technically taken place during Brian's hepatitis etc etc But this isn't meant to be realistic, it's just meant to be a source of serotonin xx
> 
> Speaking of which, this goes out to emma_and_orlando who's been keeping me company as I've been writing this. I'm so glad we've started talking and I hope you get your chapter finished! 💗

For Queen the night doesn’t end when they leave the stage. On the contrary regardless of how late it is the return to their dressing room only heralds the start of several adrenaline fuelled hours of drinking and general debauchery as they ride out the post show buzz, usually in whatever local establishments they can find in the city they’re playing in. 

And if there isn’t time to go out between the end of the show and their departure for their next destination then they’ll drink on the bus, playing games of scrabble that become increasingly more competitively drunken as the miles roll past. 

Thus as the relatively healthy twenty something year olds with various amounts of stimulants at their disposal that they are it makes sense that up until now they haven’t ever finished a show well and truly tired. For sure they’ve each had occasional individual moments of fatigue, but up until this tour complete undiluted exhaustion has been a stranger to them. 

Until tonight that is. Because tonight marks their third consecutive show in as many days, with another one on the way tomorrow. This coupled with the fact that they haven’t seen a hotel room or a shower in what feels like forever means that it makes sense that by the time the four of them manage to stumble into a mercifully dark and empty dressing room they’re all absolutely drained. 

Wordlessly they fall down beside each other on the sofa, none of them making any moves to change out of their concert clothes or begin gathering up their things. 

“Shit” It’s Freddie who breaks the silence with an exhausted curse, rubbing his eyes as he tries to alleviate the ache steadily building behind them. 

“You know” Says Brian “When John Reid said this’d be difficult I didn’t think he meant like this” 

“His exact words were that it’d be hard. He left out the part about it being the absolute most gruelling thing we’ve ever done in our entire lives” Freddie groans, wincing when he tries to stretch and his muscles pop audibly.

To his left John in a presumably similar position mutters “I can’t feel my arms. Or my legs. Or anything now I think about it” 

“God, I wish I couldn’t feel my arms” Moans Roger, prompting an incredibly brief complaining match with Brian in which they each try to one up each other with their assorted injuries and ailments before they seemingly simultaneously decide that they’re both too fatigued to continue. 

Meanwhile Freddie closes his eyes and drops his head back against the back of the sofa. Now he’s sat down he doesn’t think he could get up even if he tried. It feels like his bones have melted into the fabric. As far as he can tell (since he can’t be bothered to open his eyes and actually check) his three companions are in much the same condition as he is, hence for a time they all just end up sat there in a silence punctuated only by the sound of heavy breathing and occasional pained sighs. 

“We really ought to get going” He says after a moment, despite the fact that even as he speaks he can feel his limbs become weighted down with the tell tale heaviness that precedes sleep. 

“You’re right” Mumbles Brian “We should”

“Reid’ll have an absolute fit if we’re late for the bus” He continues, unable to even pretend that he actually cares about being punctual anymore. 

“Yep. He will” Affirms John, sounding similarly unbothered at the prospect of inconveniencing their manager. 

Still, Freddie can’t help feeling the need to justify the impromptu nap he knows he’s about to take “But... we can take five minutes right? We’ve just done three shows… Surely we’ve earned five minutes?” He asks. 

The subsequent assorted sounds of agreement from his band mates is however apparently all it takes to convince his sleep deprived brain that it’s perfectly definitely fine for him to relinquish any and all responsibilities he may have to his manager. 

He shuffles further down the sofa. It’s not a comfortable piece of furniture by any means (it’s worn and it smells like more than one previous band has slept on it) but right now he reckons he could probably get a decent night's sleep outside on the pavement. As long as he’s no longer vertical that’s good enough for him. So both reassured that it won’t be the end of the world if they’re a little late for bus call, and in a serviceable enough position he relaxes, letting his brain give in to the insistent call for rest pulsing at the back of his brain while allowing the warmth of sleep envelop him entirely. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Sometimes John Reid wonders if he should assign Paul to keep tabs on Queen 24/7, because even though the bus has been ready for the band for at least twenty minutes now there’s apparently been no sign of any of them since they left the stage at the end of the concert. Which would be fine if it wasn’t absolutely essential that they all get moving as soon as possible, so as to reach Iowa in good time for tomorrow’s show. It’s going to be a long journey through the night, so the sooner the tour can depart the better. 

So although he’s not at an emergency state of “If those four idiots don’t show up in the next ten minutes someone is going to die” He’s definitely starting to reach irritably concerned. Sure they have to be around somewhere, but he doesn’t need them to be somewhere- he needs them to be on the bus and ready to go. 

After doing several rounds of the car park, the stage, and the surrounding roads to little success he eventually finds himself down a dingy corridor and outside the door of a presumably vacant dressing room that he hadn’t thought to check before on account of both the lack of noise and light coming from inside. It isn’t like the band to be quiet, and it isn’t really like any group of people (rockstars or otherwise) to hang around in the dark. But at this point he’s exhausted all other options so he decides to check just to be on the safe side. It can’t hurt to at least look. 

He opens the door, immediately caught off guard by the bizarrely sentimental scene that greets him. He hadn’t been expecting to find even one of his mentee’s in here, let alone all four of them, and yet here they all are- first Freddie then Brian then Roger and then John- slumped in a line on the sofa looking as though not even the sudden unexpected appearance of God himself would wake them. Although John’s been wondering for some days now if and when the never ending grind of tour would fully hit them (as it does all touring artists eventually) rarely does it hit every single member of a group all at once. It’s just another testament to how in tune they are with each other, he supposes. 

Everything about them from their smudged makeup to their dishevelled clothing spells weariness, to the point where for a second John’s almost tempted to leave them where they are. But he knows he can’t really do that. There’ll be time for sleep once they get to the bus, so right now it’s his job to get them there, regardless of how unpopular he’s about to make himself. 

As he steps further into the room it crosses his mind that at the very least he should try to wake them up nicely, but very rapidly he dismisses the thought with the realisation that there won’t be a nice way of doing this. He’ll just have to bite the bullet. 

He claps his hands together twice in rapid succession “Come on. Time to go”

Several curses of varying degrees of profanity (Some directed at him and others directed more at the universe in general) are uttered as the four men are startled awake. 

“Come on” He says, trying desperately to conceal the note of amusement in his voice that comes with the sight of four fully grown men complaining bitterly about being woken up like toddlers “The bus is barely a half a mile walk away. You can sleep there” 

Freddie leans forward, burying his face in his hand “Reid please, five more minutes” 

“You just had five more minutes. Actually to be exact you had twenty” Over numerous whines of disbelief he continues “That’s twenty minutes you’ve been holding everyone else on this tour up. I know you’re fast on the way to becoming mega rockstars but you owe your crew and your roadies the courtesy of being on time. Without them there’s no you. There’s no Queen”

It’s with this that he wins them over, because tired as they are he knows they won’t argue with that. They care enough about the people making this all happen for them to not do them this disservice of being knowingly late. So, albeit with some members taking longer than others, they do all eventually make it off the sofa and to the door. 

“You’re enjoying this” Observes the bassist suspiciously on his way past. His pallid complexion and the dark circles under his eyes make him look far younger than his twenty three years, which only adds to the humorous image in Reid’s mind of himself as a father rounding up his unruly children. 

He quirks a smile “Only a little” After all the time he’s spent looking for the four of them John thinks he’s earned the right to find this funny. 

“Sadist” Replies Brian bitterly. 

“You signed up for this. I told you what you were getting into, it’s not my fault if you didn’t listen” He claps Freddie (the last member out) on the back “Go on. Paul’s still inside, he’ll take you to the bus. I’ll see you there” 

Taking a moment to watch them retreating- mostly to make sure they’re actually going but partly the way they’re stumbling over their own feet and each other is fairly comical- he then heads off down the corridor in the opposite direction. It feels good to cross “Locate band” Off his seemingly never ending to do list. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s quiet on the bus when later he and Paul step onto it together to do one final headcount before the tour departs for Des Moines. All the usual crew are present and accounted for onboard, each silently making their customary final preparations for a night on the road, but unusually absent are the four stars themselves, who never shirk responsibility when it comes to helping their roadies pack up. 

There’s a horrifying second when John’s afraid that he’s lost them yet _again _but it doesn’t take long before he spies them sprawled together on the back bench in a position almost comically identical to the one he’d found them in earlier.__

__Drawing closer he sees they’re a mess of stray limbs and unkept hair and sweat, a rough image that’s emphasised by the fact that none of them have managed to change out of their concert outfits, apparently having collapsed the moment they’d made it onto the bus. If exhaustion were ever to be embodied in a single scene this would be it, and yet John can’t help but note the tenderness underlying the whole thing. They might be fully grown rockstars who on other nights get pissed and act like wankers, but right now they just look like a tired group of friends. It’s almost sweet._ _

__“Someone probably ought to move them. They’ll definitely end up falling off if the driver breaks too hard” Says Paul quietly. He sounds like he’s caught between concern and amusement._ _

__John laughs “If you want to try and wake them up then please feel free. But for my own personal safety I’m going to leave them where they are” He scans their faces for any sign of awakeness, and upon finding none he adds “Besides, I don’t think a bus crash, or anything of that sort, could stir them right now. Lets just enjoy the quiet while it lasts”_ _

__He claps Paul on the back and makes his way back down to the front of the bus. They’ve still got a few minor things to check before they move on from here, and so the pair exit the vehicle, leaving the four oblivious band members where they found them. John’s been on enough tours now to know that soon enough they’ll be back to their usual vibrant selves, but for now what they need is a night of proper uninterrupted rest._ _

**Author's Note:**

> In my head this is what sort of position the band were in when Reid found them on the bus https://www.istockphoto.com/gb/photo/four-people-sleeping-on-couch-gm528957789-54227990  
> So from left to right it's Freddie, Brian, Roger and John. 
> 
> Also I'm going to keep promoting my tumblr @bisexualjohanna until I 1. Get more Queen loving mutuals or 2. Get a girlfriend 💖


End file.
